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"The First Chapter: Mysterious Encounters"

By Ameen younisPublished 4 months ago 5 min read

We all wish to live an adventure, imagining what it could be. We don't reach it; our minds simply wander far away, beyond the imagination of writers, like a pure Bollywood movie scenario. Our minds mock us when they return to logic. But what we don't know is that logic is the greatest deceiver, capable of making us heroes in a real novel without us realizing it. If the adventures we imagined and mocked actually happened in the real world, our minds couldn't comprehend and portray them as scenes.

There is no imagination resulting from nothing; imagination is a hidden world from logic that we have not yet experienced. This is what I, Tarek Hassan, in my thirties, have come to understand after my adventure, which may be an ordinary thing for many people, just a fictional story for others. However, for me, it was an adventure that changed my life and turned all the balances.

Oh, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself first. I'm Tarek Hassan, the External Relations Manager at a pharmaceutical manufacturing company. I've been here for just a few months; to be honest, I don't remember how many because today my mind is focused only on one thing I'll tell you about later in our conversation. Anyway, I always fit into this position because of my appearance. They think I got the job because of my gray eyes like my mother's and my blonde hair, along with my athletic body due to my hobby as a fitness trainer, which is also my profession.

But I have another problem; in agreeing to the position of a manager, I agreed to one condition only—my height. My height, which I wish to see as an advantage like theirs, is not known, 193... I spent two years convincing them to let me apply for immigration to the city of giraffes!

Too much talk and wanting to be useful! Alright, I'll tell you, but let me tie my shoelace before I get down... Yes, ready, let's continue.

Let me show you who I am from my appearance. I am a well-groomed young man, understanding everything and wanting everything normal. My life is full of events and people, but the truth is I am a very peaceful person, eating chicken and potatoes and sleeping early because of work, nothing unusual!

Oh, I'm hardworking in my job, just as I was diligent in my studies, but my life is ordinary. Lately, I got tired of the repeated phrase, "We want to make you happy, Tarek," "Be happy with your parents, Tarek," "Isn't that enough, Tarek?" with a wink and a smile. And the last girl I knew and attracted to was when I was in the third year of high school during the physics class. I liked her shoes' color, the color of her bag, and when I focused on her, I liked her features. I kept dreaming about her days and nights and chose names for our future children until her name turned out to be Kristina, and I decided to remain single with my dignity.

Let me tell you, do you remember where I parked my car yesterday? Oh, right, you don't know me; how would you know where I parked it and how? Sorry, I told you, my mind is only focused on one thing, the car was in front of the building, yes, come on, let's continue inside the car.

I'll continue.

This car was the center of everything, the beginning of my new life. On my third day at the new job, when I parked my car in front of the company and saw it after the end of the day, I got scared. It stood still in front of the car, not moving. I couldn't focus on her details, but I remembered some details. A girl in her twenties, with a pocket and a formal shirt, wearing a long scarf. She caught my attention; I stood in front of the car, concentrated on it for a few minutes, and then walked away.

I didn't understand what happened, but it's okay; I didn't care.

But the issue repeated itself the next day when, by chance, I looked out of the office window before leaving to go home. I saw the girl coming out of our company, and I could recognize her by her scarf and formal attire. She looked left and right, calmly circled the car, and her composed movements unnerved me. Her gaze was steady, standing in the same spot as the day before, right in front of the car. She took out her phone, glanced at it, then looked back at the car, giving me a look that made me grab my keys and laptop bag and rush downstairs to see what she wanted from my car. Unfortunately, I couldn't catch up; she had already left.

I couldn't understand what she was doing in the company. What was the problem with my car? Did she like it, or was she planning to steal it? What is going on?

On the third day, I kept watching the car from the window, feeling intrigued and tense. I couldn't focus on work until I saw her leaving the company early. She stood behind the car, calmly placed her hands on the car's bag, and stayed there quietly. Suddenly, she reached into her bag, pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, wrote something, placed the paper on the car's bag, and walked away. She walked away while her eyes were fixed on the car with a strange smile. For a moment, I thought about calling the police, accusing her of planning to steal it, thinking she might be a lunatic or a vengeful person. The last thought that crossed my mind made me reconsider calling the police, and I decided to check the first note she left. It couldn't be possible that she is Kristina's owner seeking revenge on me after all these years, and she didn't even know that there is a living being named Tarek.

I went down, opened the car's bag, and found the note. It said, "36E BMW... A distinctive choice. Congratulations." It drove me crazy; I spent the whole day wandering around the house, thinking. What did she mean? Is this a threat? What is she planning?

I went to work without sleeping, the phrase echoing in my mind, a shower of thoughts, with tactics of a professional investigator trying to understand this girl's puzzle. Until I made the decisive decision...

********To be continued***********


About the Creator

Ameen younis

Versatile writer weaving magic and mystery, exploring life's nuances. Through evocative language, I aim to leave a contemplative mark by crafting resonant literary experiences.

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